Post on 07-Aug-2018
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Books by Susan Anne Mason
C D
Irish Meadows
A Worthy Heart
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A WO R T H Y H E A R T
SUSAN A NNE M ASON
5
COURAGE TO DREAM
BOOK 2
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© 2016 by Susan Anne Mason
Published by Bethany House Publishers
11400 Hampshire Avenue South
Bloomington, Minnesota 55438
www.bethanyhouse.com
Bethany House Publishers is a division of
Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan
Printed in the United States of America
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval
system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy,
recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception
is brief quotations in printed reviews.
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015952159
ISBN 978-0-7642-1725-8
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of
the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual
events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover design by Jennifer Parker
Cover photography by Mike Habermann Photography, LLC
Author is represented by the Natasha Kern Literary Agency.
16 17 18 19 20 21 22 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
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To my mother-in-law, Barb,
who has been such a cheerleader in my life,especially with respect to my writing!
And to my mother, Irene,
who doesn’t quite understand this whole
publishing thing but is happy for me anyway!
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“Fear not: for I have redeemed thee, I have
called thee by thy name; thou art mine.”
Isaiah 43:1
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1
JUNE 1914
N EW YORK C ITY
T ! The Statue of Liberty.”
The eager cry of a child caused a ripple of excite-
ment among the crush of passengers as the steamship
inched its way into the New York Harbor.Maggie Montgomery craned her neck to get her first glimpse
of the famous landmark. When the crowds shifted enough for
her to see the giant arm holding the torch aloft, a thrill of an-
ticipation shot through her, as sharp and biting as the wind
that tore at the kerchief covering her hair. America’s symbol
for freedom. For new life.
Maggie’s new life.She clutched her brother’s arm. “Can you believe it, Gabe?
We’ve made it to America.”
Gabe nodded, his gaze fixed on the wonder of the immense
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statue before them. “’Tis a grand sight, to be sure.” He spoke
in a reverent whisper almost drowned out by the wind.
She squeezed his coat sleeve, knowing her brother was asmoved as she. Never in her wildest imaginings had she dared
envision this moment—that her long-held wish to travel and see
other parts of the world could actually come true. Now here they
were on an extended trip to visit their older brother, Rylan, and
his family in New York. What adventures would await her here?
Gabe took her by the elbow. “Let’s move to the other side and
get a look at the dock. Maybe Rylan will be there waiting for us.”
Being a big lad, Gabe had no trouble maneuvering Maggie
and himself to a spot at the far side of the rail. Maggie could feel
the anticipation rushing through the passengers as they chatted
and laughed—many, like Maggie, seeing the tall buildings of
New York for the first time.
Breathtaking was all Maggie could think. So different from
their tiny village in Cork. The vastness of the scene before her
made her feel as insignificant as an ant on the ground, and
though grateful for Gabe’s arm around her waist, anchoring
her to the rail, she couldn’t suppress the shiver of nerves that
ran through her body.
Gabe pulled her closer. “Are you cold, love?”
“No. Just excited.” Nervous, more like. But Maggie wasn’tabout to let her overprotective brother in on that tidbit of in-
formation. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen Rylan. I hope
he’ll recognize us.” She paused to look into Gabe’s gray eyes,
so similar to her own. “Do you think he’s changed?”
The stiff wind whipped Gabe’s dark hair about his forehead.
He’d stuffed his cap into his coat pocket, since it would never
stay put, battered by the ocean breeze. “No fear of that. Nowthat he’s married to the love of his life and has adopted wee
Delia, I think Rylan will be his same jolly self.”
The fact that Rylan and Colleen had taken in one of the
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children from the orphanage Rylan directed made Maggie love
her brother all the more. “Delia must be seven or eight by now.”
“Just the right age to be impressed with her Aunt Maggie’sbeauty and spunk.” Gabe tugged playfully at a loose curl that
had escaped her head covering.
She swatted him. “Away with you. I’m no beauty. Not by New
York standards, anyway.” She smiled. “I’ve been reading some
American magazines to prepare me for what the ladies wear
over here.” She plucked at the sleeve of her serviceable brown
overcoat. “I’m afraid I’ll be painfully out of style.”
“Not to worry. You’ll have Colleen and the other O’Learys to
help with your wardrobe. I’m sure they won’t mind lending you
a dress or two.” Gabe grinned, revealing dimples in each cheek.
Maggie’s heart swelled with love for her handsome brother
who had long been her protector. She knew Gabe had not
been keen to come on this voyage, that he was doing it at the
request of their mother. The rest of her family had all agreed
that she and Gabe would stay in America until the end of the
summer. Long enough, her mother hoped, for Gabe to forget
about the political uprisings in Ireland. And long enough for
Maggie’s former beau to forget about her and get on with
his life.
In the emotional aftermath of her failed betrothal to NeillFitzgerald, Mum had given Maggie the money for her passage
without a moment’s hesitation. But when the time had come
to go, leaving her mother had been the hardest thing Maggie
had ever done.
“Hey now, why the sour expression?” Gabe elbowed her. “You
look like someone kicked your cat.”
She gave a discreet sniff and lifted her chin. “Just missinghome is all. ’Tis a far cry from this, isn’t it?” She gestured to
the ever-nearing shoreline.
“That it is.” Gabe gave her another squeeze and a knowing
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look. “Mum will be fine with Paddy and Claire and the grand-
kids. You have nothing to feel guilty about.”
Nothing except the secret she held close to her heart. But nouse dwelling on that now.
Loud shouts from the upper decks created a wave of move-
ment among the crowd.
“Looks like we’re docking. We’d best gather our bags.”
As soon as the crew lowered the gangplank, the eager passen-
gers scurried to disembark. Swept along with the rush, Maggie
clutched her bag with one hand and Gabe’s arm with the other.
How would they ever find Rylan in all this confusion?
Her legs shook with her first steps on solid ground in nearly
seven days. She concentrated on staying upright, scarcely able
to take in the scope of the wharf and the crowds of people
bustling about her. The rancid odor of raw fish and ripe bodies
met her nose.
Gabe guided her to an open spot by a wall, setting their bags
on the ground beside her. “Wait here and rest a minute. I’ll try
to find Rylan.” He took his cap out of his pocket and slipped it
over his unruly hair. “Don’t move ’til I return. Promise?”
“I promise.” She had no intention of going anywhere, content
to watch the flurry of activity on the docks—the men unloading
the ship and the rest of the passengers pouring off. Maggie untiedthe knot of the kerchief under her chin, pulled it off, and stuffed
it into the pocket of her coat. How she yearned for a bath and
a shampoo for her hair. She’d kept her long, dark curls braided
and wrapped tight to her head for the whole voyage, fearful of
contracting lice or some other hideous contagion.
“Maggie! Is that you?”
Maggie’s head swiveled in the direction of the elated voice.A wide smile broke over her face while unbidden tears of joy
filled her eyes. “Rylan!”
Her older brother bounded toward her, heedless of the bags
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and the crush of people, and scooped her into his arms. She
squeezed him hard as he kissed her on both cheeks.
“Ah, Maggie. You’re even lovelier than the last time I sawyou.” Rylan wiped moisture from his eyes.
Maggie loved that her exuberant brother never tried to hide his
emotions, but experienced every one full out. “You’re a charm-
ing liar. I look a wreck after a week on that bobbing cork.”
She laughed out loud at the sheer pleasure of seeing him again.
“You, on the other hand, look wonderful. Marriage must agree
with you.”
He winked and grinned. “With a wife as beautiful as my
Colleen, how could it not?”
She gave him another hug. “I’m so happy to see you. I’ve
missed you something terrible.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“I can’t wait to see my sister-in-law and my niece.” She’d met
little Delia three years ago when Rylan had brought his new fam-
ily to Ireland on his rather unconventional honeymoon. After
finalizing Delia’s adoption, Rylan and Colleen took the little
girl with them everywhere.
“And Colleen is just as eager to see you.” He straightened
and scanned the immediate area. “Where is Gabe? He shouldn’t
leave you alone.”
“Searching for you. Did you not see him?”“No.” He frowned. “I hope he’s not run into any trouble.
There are some unsavory characters around here, looking to
pick the pockets of unsuspecting travelers as they disembark.”
“No need to fear, brother. My pockets are still intact.”
Rylan grinned and turned to clasp Gabe in a huge hug.
“It’s been far too long.” Gabe clapped Rylan on the back.
Rylan nodded. “You have no idea how good it is to have familyon this side of the ocean. Come on. Colleen will be worrying if
we don’t get back soon.”
The men picked up the suitcases, and the threesome set off
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toward the main street leading into the city. Feeling steadier,
Maggie soaked in every detail of the colorful surroundings—
the magnificent buildings, so tall she couldn’t find the tops, thevibrant clothing in many different styles, and the interesting
speech patterns of the people passing by.
They’d traveled about two blocks when Rylan stopped. “We’ll
catch the streetcar here. It will take us within a block of my
home.” He set the luggage on the ground beneath a sign. “Since
we don’t own a motorcar, we walk or take the streetcar.”
“No need to explain, Ry. You know we walk everywhere at
home.”
Maggie smiled. “A streetcar will be a luxury for me.”
As is this whole trip.
The only thing marring her excitement was the persistent
niggle of guilt that continued to plague her. Everyone believed
she was here for a summer sojourn, but in truth she had no
intention of returning to Ireland. The opportunity to come to
America, to escape the restrictions of her small village and to
seek her fortune in the big city, was a dream Maggie was not
willing to sacrifice. Even if it meant leaving her beloved mother
behind forever.
Twenty minutes later, after an unsettling ride on a tram car
that jostled worse than their ship over the waves, Gabe helped
his sister step down. He set his bag on the ground and paused
a moment to catch his breath.
The sights along the route had made Gabe’s pulse race in a
way he hadn’t anticipated. With the political unrest increasing
in Ireland, he hadn’t wanted to leave home. The only reasonhe’d agreed to this trip was to ease his mother’s anxiety about
Maggie traveling alone. Perhaps unfairly, Gabe had been pre-
pared to detest everything about New York, yet he’d almost
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fallen off his seat when they’d passed a local fire station and
he’d caught a glimpse of a gleaming red fire truck inside the
open door. Other than spending time with Rylan and his family,Gabe looked forward to learning how the New York Fire De-
partment operated. He hoped to bring ideas back to his rather
rustic station in Cork. Any methods of improvement would be
welcome in their small town.
After a few minutes of walking, Gabe slowed when Rylan
stopped at the foot of a cement staircase.
“This is it,” Rylan announced, starting up the steps to a tall,
brick house.
Compared to their mother’s cottage back in Ireland, Rylan’s
home seemed as large as a castle. Yet Gabe wouldn’t trade the
lush green meadows surrounding their thatched house for any-
thing. He scanned the street lined with row upon row of similar
structures and not a blade of grass in sight. Where did Delia
run and play?
“Quit gawking and get in here,” Rylan said with a laugh.
He pushed open the front door, and they entered a long,
narrow hallway. Quick footsteps sounded in the distance, and
almost immediately a girl ran toward them.
“Mama, hurry up. They’re here!” The blond tyke raced over
to Rylan and launched herself into his outstretched arms.Rylan beamed at the girl. “You remember Uncle Gabe and
Aunt Maggie, don’t you?”
Delia nodded, ducking her head. “I remember Aunt Maggie
’cause she’s so pretty.”
Gabe held back a snort.
Maggie ignored him and plucked the child out of Rylan’s
arms. “Not as pretty as you, sweet girl. What I wouldn’t givefor hair as fair as yours.” She rained kisses on the girl’s cheeks,
causing an eruption of giggles.
Rylan winked as Colleen came up beside him. “There’s my
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lovely wife. I was beginning to think you’d been captured by
leprechauns.”
Colleen swatted her husband’s arm. Three years of marriagehad not dimmed her fiery hair and violet-blue eyes.
“Hush,” she scolded her husband as she stepped forward to
hug Gabe.
He kissed her cheek. “Grand to see you again, Colleen.”
“We’re so pleased you could come and visit. Rylan gets so
lonely for his family.”
The love shining on her face made Gabe’s breath catch. What
would it be like to have the devotion of such a fine woman? So
unlike the fickle Brigid, who’d thrown him over for another fire-
fighter. Gabe turned his thoughts firmly away from his ill-fated
romance and concentrated on his brother’s family.
Colleen hugged Maggie. “You must be exhausted after your
voyage. Make yourself at home in the parlor, and I’ll boil the
water for tea.”
Rylan took their overcoats and hung them on a hook, then led
them through a door on the right into a cozy living area where
a cheerful fire burned in the hearth. A sofa and two armchairs
flanked the fireplace.
Maggie plopped onto the settee, little Delia still clinging to
her neck.“Can I get you a nip of Irish whisky?” Rylan asked.
Gabe shook his head. “No, thank you. One too many hang-
overs cured me of that vice. Tea will be lovely.”
Rylan took the seat opposite Gabe. “How was Mum when
you left? Was she really all right with you two coming here?”
“Aye. She wished she could come, too, but her health still
isn’t the best. Paddy and Claire will look out for her while we’regone. Tommy and Eileen will help, as well.”
A trace of sadness crept over Rylan’s features. “I wish I could
get away for a month or so to go home for a visit, but the or-
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phanage is bursting at the seams lately, and I wouldn’t leave
Colleen to manage on her own.”
“Oh? Any news we should know about?” Maggie winked atRylan over Delia’s blond curls.
Gabe had half-expected to see Colleen ripe with child when
they arrived, yet her slim figure belied the arrival of a niece or
nephew anytime soon.
A frown darkened Rylan’s brow. “No, and it’s a bit of a sore
subject, so I’d appreciate it if neither of you mentioned it, unless
she brings up the topic.”
“So, Rylan,” Gabe said, taking the opportunity to change
the subject, “any chance you can get me a tour of the nearest
fire station tomorrow?”
“Is that all you ever think of?” Maggie rolled her eyes. “Can
you not forget about fires for once?”
“Not when it’s in Gabe’s blood, sister dear.” Rylan stood to
poke at the fire. The logs hissed as a flame shot upward. “As
a matter of fact, I know Chief Witherspoon quite well. He
inspects the orphanage on a regular basis. I could arrange a
tour, if you’d like.”
“That would be grand. The sooner the better.”
Rylan laughed. “Being cooped up on that boat has made you
itchy, I see. Not to worry. I’m sure I can spare a few minutes
tomorrow to take you over.”
A thrill of excitement quickened Gabe’s pulse. With inside
knowledge of New York’s renowned stations, Gabe could return
home a hero and hopefully earn a promotion at work.
That thought brought a smile to his face and made this un-
wanted trip to America a great deal more bearable.
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2
T echoed through thedamp corridors of the New York Penitentiary as the
cell door closed behind him. Squaring his shoulders,
Adam O’Leary prepared for his last walk through the center
aisle of the prison. He should be filled with joy, ecstatic over his
release from incarceration after almost three years. Instead, anervous ball of dread swirled in his stomach. How would he face
his family—his highly religious, morally superior family—after
being tried and convicted for his crimes?
The musty stench of unwashed bodies followed him through
the corridor until he reached the last barrier. The guard before
him rattled his circle of keys and selected one to unlock the door,
then ushered Adam through. They continued on to a large outerroom with a high counter and several long benches.
“I hate to say it, O’Leary, but I’m going to miss your ugly
mug around here.” The man known to Adam only as Sarge
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gave a slight twitch of his lips, which Adam supposed passed
for a smile.
Adam nodded and fixed him with a sincere gaze. “Thanks,Sarge. For everything. You made life in this hole a little more
bearable.” Adam stuck out his hand, not sure if Sarge would
take it. But the man’s huge paw swallowed Adam’s and pumped
it hard.
“Best of luck on the outside, lad. And try to stay out of
trouble this time.”
“I’ll do my best.”
Sarge gave him one last clap on the shoulder before leaving
Adam in the charge of the officer at the desk. After Adam had
signed the required papers, the man handed him a plain brown
package containing his worn leather wallet and pocket watch.
“You’ve been provided with enough money to purchase a
one-way train ticket once you reach the mainland.” The officer
pushed a few bills across the counter. “The patrol boat will meet
you at the dock to take you over. Don’t let me see you back here
again.” The gruff warning didn’t match the sympathy visible
in the man’s eyes.
“I’ve no intention of coming back, sir. Thank you.” Adam
folded the bills into his wallet and tucked the wallet into his
back pocket. The weight of the leather made his trousers sagaround his hips, emphasizing the weight he’d lost since coming
here. He hoped Mrs. Harrison’s good cooking would remedy
that in short order.
If his father allowed him home again.
Adam pulled on his jacket and tugged his cap over his shaggy
auburn hair. A haircut and a proper shave would be most wel-
come right now. Grimly, he gathered the small bag that containedhis only other clothing, tipped his cap to the officer, and headed
out the main door.
Less than one hour later, Adam stepped off the patrol boat
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and onto the East 34th Street pier. Brilliant sunshine momen-
tarily blinded him as he made his way down the walkway toward
the street. On the corner of First Avenue, he paused to get hisbearings, unused to the rush of people, cars, and horses on the
streets. A streetcar bell clanged as it went by, a sound Adam
hadn’t heard in ages. The clear blue sky and long streets beck-
oned him. Instead of the streetcar, he’d walk to the station and
take the next available train to Long Island.
He strolled for several blocks, relishing the freedom to ven-
ture as far as he liked without a guard watching his every
movement. Being able to enjoy the fresh air without having to
sweat and toil at splitting rocks seemed decadent. He walked in
the general direction of the train station, but his steps slowed
as the neighborhood sights became familiar. Drawn almost
against his will, he picked up his pace until he found the ad-
dress he sought.
Adam stopped across the street from the tall, brick building
on Lexington Avenue and simply took it in. An engraved brass
sign proclaimed it to be St. Rita’s Orphan Asylum. Going from
memory, Adam noted a few subtle changes to the building,
which he attributed to his sister and her husband, Rylan, the
new manager. Cheerful flowerpots stood guard at the foot of
the cement staircase leading to the main door. Window boxesspilled colorful blooms from the first-floor windows. Colleen
always did love fresh flowers.
Fighting an inner tug-of-war, Adam crossed the street. He
had no intention of intruding on Colleen, but the lure of pos-
sibly catching a glimpse of her won over. From an open window,
the voices of young children drifted outside. High-pitched cries
of glee created a wave of longing in Adam. Had he ever beenthat carefree? Even as a ten-year-old boy, he’d rarely laughed
or indulged in senseless playtime. Unlike the orphans housed
within these walls, Adam had been given every advantage in
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life, yet despite their circumstances, they sounded happier than
Adam had ever been.
He pushed back a spurt of regret, imagining his vivacioussister inside, tending to the children’s needs. He wished he could
find the courage to march up those stairs, grab her in a hug,
and tell her how much he’d missed her these past years. But his
uncertainty about the welcome he’d receive held him frozen in
place. Despite the few letters he’d received from Colleen dur-
ing his prison term, Adam did not have a clear picture of her
feelings toward him. Would she embrace him or throw him off
the property? He wouldn’t blame her if she did the latter, con-
sidering he hadn’t even attended her wedding. If he’d known
at the time that he would lose his freedom a few weeks later
during a raid at the Lucky Chance Saloon, he would certainly
have made a different choice.
Only one of the regrets that haunted him now.
He stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets and moved reluc-
tantly away from the entrance, prepared to walk on, but excited
cheers coming from the side of the building drew his attention.
He followed the noise down a side alley to the back of the build-
ing, where a large iron gate barred his way. His height gave him
the advantage of being able to see over the adjacent hedge.
“Run, Billy. You can make it!” a tall lad shouted at anotherboy, who rounded what appeared to be bases made from burlap
sacks.
At the far end of the grassy area, a dark-haired woman hiked
her skirts to her knees and raced after the ball. With one swift
movement, she scooped it up and hurled it back to a boy waiting
at second base. Despite her Herculean effort, the runner made
it safely to his goal. Several groans competed with the cheers.The woman laughed as she made her way back. “Nice job,
Billy. Whose turn to bat?”
The strong Irish lilt to her voice captured Adam’s interest.
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She sounded as though she’d just stepped off a steamship from
Ireland.
A tiny blond girl ran over to the woman and tugged her skirt.“Miss Montgomery, I need to use the restroom.”
Miss Montgomery crouched in front of the tot and took her
by the hand. “What’s your name, darlin’?”
“Sarah.”
The woman waved at one of the older girls across the yard.
“Can you take Sarah inside, please?”
“Yes, miss.” She came forward to take Sarah by the hand,
and they moved out of Adam’s sight.
“Can Mr. Rylan come out and play with us?” A boy with
tousled hair bounced over to talk to Miss Montgomery.
“Not right now. I’m afraid he’s working.” She crossed her
arms in front of her, a mock scowl creasing her pert nose. “Are
you saying I’m not good enough for you?”
The boy grinned. “You’re not bad . . . for a girl.”
With an exaggerated growl, no doubt given for effect, she took
off in pursuit of the tyke. He squealed and ducked around her.
So fascinated was Adam as he watched the enchanting young
woman, he realized too late that the boy was headed straight
for the gate where Adam stood. Quickly he ducked behind a tall
hedge on one side of the gate. Had they seen him?Loud whispers froze Adam in place. There was no point in
running. He’d only be spotted leaving the scene of the crime,
and the last time he’d tried that, he hadn’t fared too well.
The gate creaked open, the hinge squeaking in protest. A swirl
of skirts rushed through the opening, and before Adam could
take a breath, the woman stalked over to stand in front of him.
“Is there something we can help you with, sir?” Though thequestion seemed polite, her facial expression, as well as her
tone, dripped with suspicion.
Her eyes, a cool shade of gray steel, mesmerized him. He
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blinked and straightened from behind the greenery. “No, thank
you, miss.”
She fisted her hands on her hips. “What are you doing, spy-ing on us like that?”
Oh, she is a feisty thing. Though he towered a full head above
her, she showed not one iota of fear. Adam shifted his weight
from one foot to the other. How could he explain what he’d been
doing? “I apologize if I caused you any concern. The sounds of
the children drew me over.” He tugged the brim of his cap and
gave a quick nod. “Good day to you.”
The woman scanned him from the top of his cap, which couldn’t
conceal his unruly hair, past his over-large clothing, to the toes of
his worn shoes. What must she think of him? A down-on-his-luck
hobo in need of a handout? His heart thumped in his chest—for
not an entirely unpleasant reason. For the first time in years, he
felt fully alive, every sense attuned.
She pinned him with a fierce glare, as though intending to
give him a further tongue-lashing, but instead she lifted her
chin. “Don’t be loitering around here or I’ll be forced to call
the constable.”
“No need, miss. I’ll be on my way.” He longed to ask after
Colleen, but that would put his sister in the awkward position
of having to explain who he was and why he didn’t go insideto speak with her.
With a reluctance he couldn’t explain, Adam turned and
headed down the alley toward the main street, wishing he could
have met the lovely Miss Montgomery in another time—before
he’d ruined his life.
Maggie’s feet glided over the plush carpeting that lined the
main corridor of the orphanage. “I never dreamed an orphanage
would be this beautiful,” she said to Colleen as they walked.
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Maggie had waited outside with the children, unexpectedly
joining in their game of softball, while Colleen had taken care
of a pressing matter relating to the grocery order for the kitchen.Now Maggie gave her full attention to the tour of the building
that Colleen had promised.
Colleen smiled. “Believe me, I know how you feel. The first
time I came here, I pictured rats running through the halls and
hordes of children dressed in rags.”
Maggie laughed out loud. “I’d say you had a vivid imagination.”
“You’d be right.” Colleen chuckled as she pushed open the
door to one of the rooms and ushered Maggie inside. “The
couple who donated this building to the nuns insisted on the
best furnishings and decorations. They wanted the unfortunate
children who’d lost the most important people in their lives, as
well as their homes, to feel nurtured and loved here.”
“From what I’ve seen so far, the children seem to appreciate
all they have.”
“Most of them do.” Colleen ushered her through another
door. “This is the common room. We use it for anything from
prayer services to musical performances.”
Every detail of the large room faded the moment Maggie
spied the large upright piano. Pulled by a force beyond her con-
trol, she crossed to the magnificent piece and ran her fingerslovingly over carved swirls in the mahogany surface.
“This was donated by the same couple. The woman was an
accomplished pianist, or so I’m told. Do you play?”
Maggie looked up to see Colleen watching her with a curious
expression. “Aye. The piano and the organ.” She brushed the
keys with reverent fingers, her senses tuned to the soft timbre
of the notes that emerged. “To make extra money back home,I gave lessons to the children whose parents could afford it.”
Colleen lifted a brow. “I don’t remember seeing a piano in
your cottage when we were there.”
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“The pastor lets me use the one in our church. I didn’t realize
how much I’ve missed playing.”
“Feel free to use ours whenever the children aren’t doingtheir lessons. Speaking of which, let me show you the class-
room.”
Reluctantly, Maggie tore herself away from the piano, promis-
ing herself she’d try it out the first chance she got, and followed
Colleen to the next room.
Maggie took in the rows of desks, shelves of books, and the
chalkboard up front. “It’s grand. Nicer than our schoolhouse
back home.” A sudden longing for her country school and the
students she taught rose in her chest.
Colleen fairly glowed with pride. “It is nice, isn’t it? I’m sure,
as a teacher, you’d like to take a closer look.”
“I would indeed.” Maggie walked to one of the bookcases
and ran her fingers over the spines. A tall cupboard at the far
end caught her attention. “May I?”
“Of course.”
Maggie opened the doors to find a treasure trove of items:
pencils, pens, bottles of ink, stacks of paper, rulers, and con-
tainers of chalk. She inhaled the scent, which reminded her of
her own schoolroom, and a pang of homesickness gripped her.
She hoped her students were faring well without her.Colleen adjusted the blind on one of the windows looking
out onto the street. “Maggie, would you be willing to assist in
the classroom while you’re here? We can always use extra help,
especially with the younger children.”
Maggie clasped her hands together. “I was hoping you’d ask.
I’d be delighted to, if the nuns won’t mind.”
Colleen smiled. “Sister Veronica will welcome you with openarms. Lucky for you, Sister Marguerite is mostly retired now.
She was a force to be reckoned with in her day.”
Maggie grinned and shut the doors to the storage closet. “I
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do believe Rylan regaled me with one such tale—something
about you and an ink spill?”
Pink bloomed in Colleen’s cheeks. “I can’t believe he toldyou that story.”
Maggie winked. “I think Rylan fell in love with you that very
moment. Or perhaps it was while he was helping with your
waylaid wagon and you both ended up covered in mud.”
Colleen set her hands on her hips. “I see I have no secrets left
at all. Wait until I see that man tonight. He’ll get a piece of my
mind.” But her huff of laughter gave away her pretense.
Maggie followed her back out into the corridor. “You and
Rylan are so fortunate. To have each other and to share this
important work together.” A spasm of wistfulness tugged at
Maggie. “I hope I’ll be as lucky one day.”
Colleen patted her arm. “I’m so sorry your engagement didn’t
work out. But you’re barely twenty. You’ve lots of time yet.”
Thoughts of Neill Fitzgerald—thoughts Maggie had tried
hard to leave on the shores of Ireland—came rushing to mind,
bringing with them a wave of regret over the way their rela-
tionship had ended. It seemed marriage to Neill was not her
destiny. “Maybe so, but meanwhile, I’ll fill my time helping
children. It’s my life’s calling, I feel certain.” That and her
music. Maybe she could teach the children to play a few simplesongs while she was here and inspire a love of music within
them.
She glanced at Colleen in time to see a shadow of sadness
drift across her features. “Lately I’ve been thinking about my
life’s calling, as well.” Colleen paused in the foyer and gripped
her hands together in front of her skirt. “These children may be
the only ones I get to nurture.” She gave a small shrug. “Don’tmisunderstand me. I’m extremely grateful for Delia, but I can’t
deny the longing for a babe of my own.”
Maggie squeezed Colleen’s arm. “I’m sure every woman has
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the same desire. I’ll make sure to double my petitions to heaven
on your behalf.”
“Thank you. The more prayers the better.” Colleen squaredher shoulders and seemed to pull herself together. “We should
bring the children in for lunch. They get cranky when they’re
hungry.”
As Maggie followed Colleen toward the back exit, she sud-
denly remembered the stranger at the gate.
“I don’t wish to alarm you, Colleen, but I found a man watch-
ing the children at the back gate earlier. I shooed him on his
way. Still, I thought it best to warn you.”
Maggie recalled the man’s shaggy red hair and unkempt beard
and the quiet desperation he exuded. Yet something behind the
desperation—a type of yearning or regret—had spoken to her,
and she hadn’t felt frightened.
A slight frown marred Colleen’s features. “It might have
been a parent attempting to catch a glimpse of the child they
had to leave here for one reason or another. I’ll tell the other
adults to be diligent in watching the children when they’re
outdoors.”
“Aye. I suppose it couldn’t hurt to be careful.”
Irish Meadows. Never had two words summoned more love
and more hatred with one breath.
Adam slowed his gait as he neared the long, winding lane
that would take him to his parents’ Long Island residence—his
childhood home. If he had anywhere else to go, he’d head there
in a heartbeat. However, not only was he without funds, he
couldn’t bear to hurt his mother again. If she found out he’dbeen released from prison and hadn’t come to see her, she’d
never forgive him.
He straightened and forced back the dread threatening to
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swamp him. No matter what fit of rage his father decided to
unleash on him, Adam would endure it for his mother’s sake.
When he reached the two brick pillars and the connecting archthat defined the property’s entrance, disbelief stalled Adam’s
feet once more. A new sign swung under the ironwork, one that
made bile rise in Adam’s throat.
Irish Meadows: O’Leary and Whelan Enterprises.
Ripe anger surged through Adam’s veins. That gold-digging
snake had actually done it. Coerced Father into making him a
partner in their family business. Gilbert Whelan, the orphan
boy Adam’s parents had taken in, had usurped Adam’s place in
the family. Adam squeezed his hands into fists. If he were here
right now, he’d cheerfully knock Whelan into the next pasture.
Adam continued through the entranceway, trying to quell
his indignation with the words the prison chaplain had made
him repeat over and over. “God grant me the wisdom to accept
the past and the courage to face the future with a clean heart.”
Adam took in a deep breath and slowly released it. Nothing
would change the past that had cost him his freedom. But Adam
did have the power to change his future. And letting go of old
resentments would be the first step toward achieving that goal.
As he got closer to the house, his palms grew damp. In truth,
he personified the prodigal son, returning home to beg a lowlyposition on his father’s farm. If Adam had to shovel out stalls,
or feed the beasts, or even sleep in the barn, then that’s what
he’d do. Anything to earn back his mother’s trust and respect.
He couldn’t bear to think of the pain his actions had caused the
one person who had loved Adam unconditionally his whole life.
Yet right at this moment, Adam’s courage faltered. If he could
be sure of catching Mama alone, he’d march right through thefront door. But the thought of his father’s perpetual scowl had
Adam wanting to put off that encounter awhile longer.
The warm sun heated his back through his jacket as he
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bypassed the house and headed straight to the gleaming white
fence that surrounded acres of meadows to the east and defined
the oval racetrack in the center. The soil had been freshly tilled,most likely by head trainer Sam Turnbull, who loved to rise
with the dawn and groom the track each morning.
With grim determination, Adam averted his gaze to keep from
seeing the willow that shaded the far pond—a horrible reminder
of the unspeakable tragedy that had further fragmented his
fragile relationship with his father.
The thunder of horses’ hooves over the soft earth brought
his attention back to the track. Thankfully, the trainer raced by
without a glance in Adam’s direction. Maybe it was a leftover
habit from prison, where staying anonymous had become a
matter of survival, but Adam automatically kept to the shadow
of a maple tree and wound his way to the far barn—his haven
as a boy.
The smell of wood shavings and hay uncurled the knot of
tension in Adam’s stomach. He inhaled deeply, breathing in
comfort from the past. When his eyes adjusted to the dim inte-
rior, he made his way past the stall doors. At this time of day,
all the work horses would either be out plowing the far fields
where his father grew hay to feed the livestock or grazing in the
west meadow. Adam walked past Sam’s quarters to the smallroom that contained the workbench.
A lump of emotion jammed Adam’s throat. Nothing had
changed since he’d left. The same well-used tools sat neatly
to one side on the scarred tabletop. Adam ran his fingers lov-
ingly over a piece of wood Sam was in the process of sand-
ing. How many years had it been since Adam had created a
new piece of furniture? Or refinished an old one? He hadn’tindulged his passion for woodworking since before he’d left
Irish Meadows. Before he’d gotten sucked into the mire of
the criminal world.
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He picked up a few woodchips from the table and sifted them
through his fingers.
“So you’ve come home at last.” The gruff voice of Sam Turn-bull sounded in the doorway behind Adam.
Adam dropped the chips and turned to face the man who
had been both mentor and surrogate father to him.
“Hello, Sam. It’s been a long time.” Unsure of the welcome
he’d receive, Adam wiped the sawdust from his palms and
waited.
“That it has, son.” Sam moved forward and, without hesita-
tion, clasped Adam in a tight embrace.
Adam inhaled the familiar scent of wood shavings and horse-
flesh, unable to remember the last time anyone had hugged him.
Sam cleared his throat and stepped back. “When did you
get home?”
Adam quelled the urge to laugh. Sam made it sound as though
Adam had been away on an exotic trip instead of locked away
in the bowels of the earth. Adam met Sam’s quiet gaze. “This
morning. Took the first train I could get.”
“How’d they treat you in there?”
“Well enough.”
Sam scratched his graying goatee. “Look, Adam. I’m sorry
I never came to visit. . . .” He broke off.“It’s okay, Sam. I didn’t expect anyone to.”
Sam released a breath. “Your mother will have Mrs. Har-
rison cooking a feast for you.” He squinted. “Does she know
you’re home?”
“Not yet. I couldn’t face them right away.” Adam ran a hand
over his unruly hair.
“I imagine you could use a hot bath and a clean set of clothes.”“I could.”
“As far as I know, everyone’s out for the day. Why don’t you
go in and freshen up before you see them?”
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A wave of relief slid through Adam. “I think I’ll do that.” It
would be easier to face his father feeling more like his old self,
instead of a vagrant.Sam laid a hand on Adam’s shoulder and walked with him
through the barn.
At the main doorway, Adam hesitated, then forced himself
to ask the question he must. “Do you know if my father needs
any help in the stables?”
Sympathy swam in Sam’s brown eyes. “You’d have to ask
Gilbert. He’s in charge of the hiring now.”
Of course he is. The irony hit like a sucker punch to his gut.
Was this more of God’s punishment? Having not only to let go
of his anger toward Gil, but to grovel at his nemesis’s feet for
a lowly position on the farm he’d always hated? Adam forced
himself to remember the cold, steel bars that had caged him
within the dank prison walls. At Irish Meadows, at least he’d
have open air, green grass, and blue skies. If it meant prostrat-
ing himself, then so be it.
Adam managed a tight smile for his old friend. “I’ll talk to
Gil later.”
“It’s great to have you back, son.”
Adam nodded and swallowed the ball of dust in his throat
as he headed out the door.
If only his father would share that same sentiment.
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3
A , praying no one woulddiscover him here in his old room. The maids, per
their usual schedule, were busy elsewhere at this time
of day, and as expected, when his family members had returned
home from their day’s activities, they had gone directly to the
parlor to await the summons for dinner.
Standing before the mirror, Adam adjusted the cuffs of hisjacket and studied his reflection. A bath and a quick trim of
his auburn hair and beard, as well as a clean set of clothes,
had rendered him almost presentable. Nevertheless, unrelent-
ing nerves pitched in his stomach. How would his family react
to his homecoming? Mama would certainly be overjoyed—as
would his younger siblings. Adam only prayed their happiness
would temper his father’s reaction.He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. Din-
ner would be served any minute. Adam squared his shoulders,
and with one last fond glance around the familiar bedroom,
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which his mother had kept exactly the same as before he’d left,
he closed the door and headed downstairs to greet his family.
The sound of animated voices met Adam’s ears as he nearedthe bottom of the main staircase. He paused a moment to drink
in the elegance of the house—the mahogany banister, the large
chandelier overhead, and the marble entryway. Growing up, he’d
taken this luxury for granted, but now that he’d experienced
cement-block walls and iron bars, his home seemed like a king’s
palace.
His father’s booming laugh rang out into the hallway. Adam
cringed, imagining how the man’s good humor was about to
change.
Halting at the parlor door, Adam peered into the room
and simply stared. His father sat in his favorite armchair by
the fireplace, newspaper raised in front of his face. Adam’s
youngest siblings, Deirdre and Connor, sat on the sofa on
either side of his mother.
Adam’s chest constricted as he took in the silver threads now
winding through her fading auburn locks. Tiny lines bracketed
her eyes and mouth, further indications of the passing years.
A twinge of guilt pushed at his conscience, knowing the pain
he’d caused her, which in all likelihood had added to those
lines. If it took the rest of his life, he’d make it up to her—oneway or another.
Steeling himself, Adam entered the parlor.
“I hope I’m not late for dinner.” He added as much false
gaiety to his tone as he could muster and pasted a weak attempt
at a smile on his face.
For several seconds the room stilled, and four pairs of eyes
turned to him. His father’s newspaper fluttered to the floor whilehis mother gasped. Instant tears flooded her eyes.
“Adam! You’re home.” Deirdre was the first to recover, and in
her usual boisterous fashion, she ran to throw her arms around
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him. Poised on the brink of adolescence, she still wore her red-
dish hair in braids that hung over her shoulders.
“Hi, Dee-Dee.” He lifted her slight frame off the rug andgave in to the pleasure of returning her embrace. “How’s my
girl? You’ve gotten so tall since I last saw you.”
“You’ve gotten skinnier.” She frowned at him.
“Didn’t much like the food where I was staying.” Though
Adam kept his attention on his sister, he grew increasingly aware
of his father’s stiff posture and his mother moving toward him.
Connor hung back, as though unsure how to react.
Adam set Deirdre on her feet to focus on his mother, a storm
of emotion rioting through him. “Mama. It’s good to see you,”
he managed to get out.
“My boy is home.” Tears dampening her cheeks, Mama
grabbed him for a hard hug. Her frame shuddered as she wept
in his arms. “We’ve missed you so much.”
Adam’s chest ached. “I’ve missed you, too.” His thoughts flew
to the one time she’d come to visit him in prison, against his
father’s express orders. Seeing his upright mother in that hovel
of a place had broken something in Adam. He’d vowed then
and there that if he ever got out, he would make something of
his life so she would never again have to witness him in a state
of such degradation.Mama stepped back and wiped her face with a handkerchief.
“Why didn’t you let us know you were coming? We’d have pre-
pared your favorite meal. Made sure your room was ready.”
“I’m sorry. It all came about so fast, and there wasn’t time.
Besides, I didn’t want anyone making a fuss.” He smiled at her,
ever his greatest defender.
Connor came forward, now a lanky teen with the family’strademark auburn hair. The boy shook his hand. “Welcome
home, Adam.”
So serious for a fifteen-year-old. “Thank you, Connor. You’ve
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grown, as well. Almost as tall as me now. Though I still may be
able to best you at arm wrestling.”
The boy’s mouth tugged upward. “I don’t know about that.I’ve beaten Gil a few times.” His smile faded, as though he
suddenly remembered Adam’s strained relationship with Gil.
With considerable effort, Adam kept his expression pleasant,
ready to make the first effort at burying the hatchet. “I’m glad
to hear Gil’s been keeping you in line.”
At last, Adam focused his attention on his father, who now
stood by the fireplace. His stony countenance did not inspire
optimism. It seemed it would be up to Adam to make the first
move.
“Hello, Father. You’re looking well.”
“Can’t say the same for you. I guess prison will do that to
a man.”
Adam ignored his mother’s harsh intake of air. “Yes, sir. It
will.” He swallowed and shoved his hands into his pants pock-
ets. “If it’s not too presumptuous, I’d like to join the family
for dinner, and afterward, I hoped we might talk—in private.”
The man’s expression did not change, save for the tick in his
jaw. Adam sensed his mother nervously awaiting her husband’s
decision.
“Very well.” Father bent to retrieve the discarded newspaperand laid it on the coffee table. He straightened, directing his
gaze at Mama. “Kathleen, do we know if Gilbert is joining us
for dinner tonight?”
“I believe so, unless he’s told Mrs. Harrison otherwise.”
Adam looked around, suddenly realizing his other sister was
missing. “What about Bree?”
Mama smiled. “She’s at college for another week.”Footsteps echoed on the hall tiles, and Gilbert rushed through
the door. “Sorry I’m late. Hope I haven’t kept everyone wait-
ing.” He froze when he spied Adam. “Adam. This is a surprise.”
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Adam took in the expensive cut of Gil’s jacket, along with
the glitter of gold cufflinks, and fought back a bitter flare of
resentment. This should have been my life. He stole it from me.“Hello, Whelan.”
The use of Gil’s surname, which as a child had always rankled
him, still found its mark. Gil’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t realize
you were being released so soon.”
“Good behavior does have its rewards.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Mama cleared
her throat and looped her arm through Adam’s. “Come, let’s
adjourn to the dining room. I’m sure dinner will be served any
moment.”
Adam allowed Mama to lead him down the hallway to the
dining room, mentally preparing to swallow a large piece of
humble pie for dessert if it meant he could stay.
The children’s ward at Bellevue Hospital rang with laughter,
a sound that warmed Aurora Hastings to the core. For a few
brief moments during her visits here, these children could for-
get their pain and enjoy a little fun. Aurora loved her volunteer
duties at the hospital almost as much as the hours she spent
helping at St. Rita’s orphanage. The more time she spent withthese misfortunate little ones, the more she became convinced
that nursing was the career she was born for. The path God
intended for her life.
Aurora continued reading the story, making sure to exagger-
ate her facial expressions and keep the tale entertaining. When
she closed the book at the end, a collective groan went up from
the children.“Can we have one more story, Miss Hastings? Please?”
She’d learned when to end the sessions, knowing the children
would always beg for more, but that too much would exhaust
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them. “I’m afraid not. But I’ll be back soon, and I’ll have a new
book next time.”
She made her good-bye rounds, hugging each child, trying tomake them feel special, if only for a moment. Then she waved
and let herself out of the ward into the main corridor. With a
sigh, she leaned against the wall, allowing the pinch around
her heart to recede. It always took a few minutes to shrug off
the sadness that clung to her after seeing the little ones in pain,
alone in their beds. How she wished she could take them on an
outing to the park or on a picnic. But she lacked the authority
and the means to make that dream a reality.
“Miss Hastings.”
The male voice halted her inner musings. She turned to see
Dr. Reardon coming toward her, and a rush of pleasure filled
her.
For the past several months, Dr. Reardon had been acting as
a mentor of sorts, allowing her to observe the nurses interact-
ing with his patients in order to determine if Aurora herself
might make a good nurse. If all continued according to plan,
she hoped to apply to Bellevue’s nursing program in the fall,
and Dr. Reardon’s recommendation would add considerable
weight to her application.
Philip Reardon stopped beside her, his cheeks slightly flushed.“I’m glad I caught you before you left.”
Aurora gave him a welcoming smile. “What can I do for you,
Doctor?”
“I have an interesting case on the second floor. I thought you
might like to observe the treatment we’re trying.” He seemed
a bit nervous, fiddling with the stethoscope looped around his
neck over his white coat.“I’d like that very much.” She shifted the books in her arms,
noticing again what an attractive man he was.
He wore his brown hair short and sported a neatly trimmed
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mustache. His eyes, the color of milk chocolate, exuded warmth
and compassion, some of the traits she most admired.
Philip Reardon was a man her father would approve of as asuitor. A man dedicated to his profession. A man, Aurora had
to admit, she was beginning to see as more than just a mentor.
“Wonderful. Are you ready now?”
“Yes. I’ve just finished with the children. I can spare a few
more minutes before I head home.”
Dr. Reardon’s beaming countenance hinted at more than just
a professional courtesy. Could Philip be forming a different type
of admiration for her? Though not an unpleasant notion, Aurora
found herself hesitant to start something that might damage
their working relationship. At present, she needed Philip far
more as a supporter than a suitor.
She fell into step with him, and they headed toward the stairs.
“So, have you told your parents about your plans to enter the
nursing program?” he asked as they reached the second floor.
A band of tension cinched her neck. “I’m afraid I haven’t been
brave enough yet.” She glanced over at him. “I’d rather face a
thousand infectious diseases than make Papa angry.”
Dr. Reardon only chuckled. “I understand. Your father is
rather intimidating.”
“To say the least.”He shot her a sideways glance. “I would think that you’d
want to apprise him of your plans. If he sees how serious you
are about your career, he might stop nagging you to find a
husband.”
“Either that or he’ll double his efforts to pair me with some-
one,” Aurora replied. “You’re right, though. I will have to tell
him one day soon.”Dr. Reardon stopped outside of a private room and turned
to face her. “If it’s not too presumptuous, I would be happy to
speak to your father. Perhaps if I explained what a fine nurse
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you’d make, he might see your desired career in a more favor-
able light.”
Aurora hesitated. It would be so easy to accept his assistance.But she needed to handle her father in her own way. “I appreci-
ate the offer, and maybe at some point I will take you up on it.
But I’m a grown woman, and I need to learn to deal with Papa
as an adult.” She gave a light laugh. “The first of many battles
I will face in my career.”
A glint of respect glowed in the doctor’s eyes. “I have a feeling
you will do just fine, Miss Hastings.”
A telltale warmth crept through her cheeks as she basked
in his approval. Having a man admire her for her talents was
a refreshing change. Most men saw her only as the beautiful
heiress to the vast Hastings fortune, not the least concerned
with Aurora’s opinions or her intellect.
The image of Gilbert Whelan flashed through her mind, andwith it the usual pang of regret. After Gilbert’s betrayal and the
ugly ending to their engagement, Aurora had sworn off romance
and marriage altogether. Now, three years later, the pain had
receded to a tolerable level, but she would never forget the harsh
lesson she had learned at his hand.
Dr. Reardon opened the door and ushered her into the pa-
tient’s room. Aurora had no doubt that Philip’s interest in herhad nothing to do with her father or her family’s financial status.
She and Philip shared a bond of mutual respect and a common in-
terest in healing the sick—a solid basis for a lasting relationship.
Still, for now, she’d bide her time. Keep any budding feelings
in check until she had her recommendation and a guaranteed
acceptance to Bellevue’s nursing program.
Maybe then, with her future secure, she’d be willing to open
her heart to the possibility of romance.
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His father’s study hadn’t changed in the three years since
Adam had been here. Each book, each racing trophy, the neat
stack of papers on the corner of his father’s desk—all couldhave been frozen in time. Adam inhaled the familiar scent of
his father’s after-dinner pipe and braced against the bittersweet
wave of nostalgia. As a boy, he would sneak into the study to
sit in Father’s chair and dream of being grown up enough to
smoke a pipe with him.
“Brandy?” His father held up the crystal decanter, one eye-
brow raised.
Was that a question or a dare?
“No, thank you.” Adam took a seat on the wing chair near
the hearth and adjusted his jacket. He still wasn’t used to this
restrictive clothing. Prison garments hung like gunny sacks on
most of the inmates.
In the two minutes it took his father to pour himself a drink,
Adam rehearsed the little speech he’d prepared. Father lowered
his hefty frame onto the chair opposite him and took a long
swallow of the amber liquid.
Adam cleared his throat. “For the record, I would like to
formally apologize for any embarrassment I caused our family.
I will forever regret the disgrace I’ve inflicted on the O’Leary
name.” He bent his head over his knees and stared into theflames that danced in the fireplace. “I know I don’t deserve a
second chance, but I’m here to throw myself on your mercy.”
His father did not speak or move a muscle.
Adam’s veil of courage slipped a notch. Still he soldiered on.
“Since I am in need of a job, I hoped you could use another stable
hand. I’m willing to start at the bottom. Do whatever it takes
to earn my way back into the family’s good graces.”His father drew deeply on his pipe and blew out a stream of
smoke. His blue eyes shone as cold and slick as marble. “Do
you have any idea how I felt when I found out what you’d done?
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That you’d provided inside information about my clients’ horses
to gangsters?” His eyes narrowed. “How could you betray me
like that?”Adam hung his head, wishing he had an explanation, yet
even he didn’t completely understand his actions. “Part of it,
I’ll admit, was jealousy over Gil. The college graduate come
back to share his intelligence with us lowly peasants. As though
he were the salvation of Irish Meadows.” The bitterness tasted
sour on his tongue.
You must let go of your resentment. His mentor’s words
rang in his head.
Father slowly lowered the pipe. “Why have you always hated
Gilbert? What has he ever done to you?”
Was he blind? Or simply unaware that he’d treated his ward
like the golden boy who could do no wrong?
Adam shook his head. “Hate is not the word I’d use. Resent,
maybe.”
His father slammed his palm down on the arm of his chair.
“If you’d shown the least bit of interest in the business—” He
squeezed his eyes shut in an obvious attempt to control his anger.
“I promised your mother I wouldn’t fight with you, and I plan
to keep that promise.” He got up and walked to the window.
“Since Gilbert is an equal partner now, I need to discuss this withhim. If he agrees, you can start in the barn—on a trial basis.”
Adam mentally railed at the irony that Whelan now held the
key to Adam’s future. No employer would hire a man fresh out
of prison, and Adam needed a way to earn money if he were
ever to save enough to start his own business.
One step at a time . . .
He rose and walked to the desk. “Thank you. You won’tregret it, I promise.”
His father turned from the window to pin him with a hard
stare. “You’ve caused your mother more grief than I ever wanted
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to see her go through, especially after losing Danny . . .” His
accusing gaze made Adam want to squirm. “Don’t give her
reason to shed one more tear.”Adam’s heart squeezed with guilt. “I won’t.”
“I think for now it would be best if you slept in the barn. I
don’t want Connor and Deirdre influenced in any negative way.
Especially Connor. He’s at a critical age right now.”
A flash of the old antagonism surged through Adam’s veins,
and he fought to supress it. To ignore the sting of being deemed
unworthy to share the family home. He swallowed his pride,
thinking sadly of his comfortable bed upstairs, and moved
toward the door.
“Oh, and Adam? Next weekend marks Brianna’s graduation
from Barnard College. Your mother is planning a big celebration.
It would be better for everyone if you remained out of sight. We
don’t want Brianna’s accomplishments overshadowed by your
rather untimely return.”
Raw anger pasted Adam’s mouth shut. With a curt incline
of his head, he strode out of the room, using all his willpower
not to slam the door behind him.
Aurora approached the large Simmons estate, thankful thatthe suffrage meeting was being held at Mrs. Simmons’s tonight,
since it was only blocks from the hospital. Aurora could eas-
ily walk without having to involve the family chauffeur in her
clandestine outing.
Aurora knocked on the ornate wooden door and went over
her plan for the evening, firming her resolve not to let some
of the more vocal women get to her. She was here to find outabout the latest developments in the suffrage movement, and if
that meant putting up with idle gossip, then she would simply
ignore the loose tongues of the ladies present. Aurora wished
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to possibly learn of larger meetings in the area, where career
women met to support one another, hoping she might join a
group of like-minded women.The housekeeper answered her knock. “Good evening, Miss
Hastings. Please come in.”
“Thank you.” Aurora removed her wrap and handed it to the
woman, who then showed Aurora to the parlor.
Plump Mrs. Simmons sat perched on her Queen Anne chair,
holding court among the other women who regularly met to
discuss women’s rights.
“Good evening, Aurora. So glad you could join us.” Mrs. Sim-
mons beamed a smile that brightened her features and caused
her chin to jiggle.
“Thank you. It’s good to be here.” Aurora crossed the plush
carpet to sit on one of the available chairs, taking in the faces
around the room.
“We have a guest with us tonight,” Mrs. Simmons announced.
“Colleen’s sister-in-law, Maggie Montgomery, is visiting from
Ireland. Welcome, Maggie.”
The young woman smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Simmons.
You’ve all made me feel most welcome.”
The charm of her accent intrigued Aurora. Too bad Maggie
was related by marriage to the O’Learys. Ever since Colleen’ssister Brianna had stolen the affections of Gilbert Whelan, the
whole O’Leary clan left a bitter taste in Aurora’s mouth. One
she was still trying hard to put behind her.
“Are you feeling well, Aurora dear? You look pale.”
Aurora straightened her spine against the back of her chair.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“You haven’t picked up some dreaded disease volunteeringat that hospital, have you? Your dear mother and I have both
warned you—”
“I am perfectly well, I assure you.” Aurora managed a wide
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smile, which she hoped would convince the others of her well-
being.
“Very good. Let’s get started.” Mrs. Simmons pulled a sheetof paper from the side table and adjusted her reading glasses
on the tip of her nose. “The first order of business is a piece of
good news. The National Federation of Women’s Clubs has
voted to formally endorse the suffrage campaign.”
A murmur went around the room.
“The backing of this well-respected group can only mean
good things for the suffrage movement. The vote for women in
New York is getting closer than ever.”
Aurora’s pulse jumped. This was indeed good news. She made
a mental note to learn more about this federation.
One of the women, Mrs. Pinkerton, crossed her arms over
her ample bosom. “I, for one, will be glad when we can meet
without fear of censure, not only from men, but from other
women, as well. How can they not be behind women’s rights?”
Mrs. Simmons raised an eyebrow. “As widows, my dear Har-
riet, we are fortunate not to have to submit to a husband’s
demands. Many others, such as Aurora, must defer to the head
of the household.”
“Yes, indeed.” Mrs. Pinkerton leaned forward. “We are all
aware of Arthur Hastings’s view on a woman’s place in society,as I’m sure Aurora can attest.”
All heads turned toward Aurora, and she fought the urge to
sink into the floor. As much as she supported the movement,
Aurora abhorred being made a living example of the need for
women’s freedom.
“Hasn’t your father’s primary goal been to marry you off as
soon as possible—despite the humiliation of Gilbert Whelan’srejection?” Mrs. Pinkerton’s cheeks puffed out. “I still can’t
believe he threw you over for that rather plain O’Leary girl—”
Colleen Montgomery flew to her feet, cheeks crimson. “May
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I remind you that the ‘O’Leary girl’ you’re speaking of is my
sister, and that Gil is soon to be my brother-in-law?”
Mrs. Pinkerton’s mouth flapped open.Colleen strode to the middle of the room. “Please accept my
apologies, Mrs. Simmons, but I feel the need for some fresh air.”
Maggie rose, as well, a confused expression on her face.
“Lovely to meet you all.” She gave a half curtsy, then followed
Colleen into the hallway.
With all eyes trained on Aurora, the room became too suf-
focating to bear. The last thing she wanted to think about was
her failed betrothal to Gil. And Aurora doubted she’d learn
anything of further value this evening. She pushed to her feet.
“I’m afraid I must leave, too, Mrs. Simmons. I do hope you’ll
invite me to the next meeting.”
Mrs. Simmons followed her out into the hallway. “I’m so sorry,
my dear. I will speak with Mrs. Pinkerton and make sure she
learns to curb her tongue. I’ll also send my apologies to Colleen
and Miss Montgomery.” Mrs. Simmons shook her head as she
handed Aurora her wrap.
Despite the beginning of a headache, Aurora attempted a
smile. “It’s not your fault. When I see Colleen next, I’ll make
sure she understands that.”
“Thank you, dear girl. You really are a gem.”
Aurora entered her Manhattan family home, removed her
hat and wrap, and handed them to the butler.
“Is there anything else you need, miss?” Denby stood in the
foyer, awaiting dismissal.
“No, thank you, Denby. I believe I’ll ask Mrs. Forrester forsome tea before retiring.”
“Very good, miss.” He bowed and moved silently down the
hallway.
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Ten minutes later, seated in the parlor with a steaming cup of
tea, Aurora breathed a quiet sigh, grateful that the worst of her
headache had faded. Moments later, she heard the front dooropen and the voices of her parents echoing in the entryway. She
looked up as they entered the room.
Her mother’s pleased expression held a hint of surprise. “Au-
rora dear, you’re up late this evening.”
Aurora set her cup in the china saucer. “I got in not long
ago.”
Her father moved to the sideboard, where he uncapped the
crystal decanter of brandy. “Wasting your time at that hospital
again, I presume.” He poured the liquid into a glass.
Aurora straightened her back against the cushions of the
settee. “I don’t consider volunteering with the children a waste
of time, Papa. On the contrary, I find it to be rewarding for
everyone involved.”
Papa shot her a disapproving look and merely grunted.
Aurora turned to her mother, who took a seat beside her.
“How was your day, Mama?” She could always count on Mama
to diffuse an awkward conversation.
Her mother smiled, creating a smattering of lines around her
eyes. “I had lunch with Agnes Barnes and spent the afternoon
in the garden. A very pleasant day.”Papa lowered his substantial frame into his favorite armchair
and set his glass on the side table. “I had an interesting day.”
He paused. “James O’Leary came into the bank to see me.”
Aurora froze, her hand suspended in mid-air. Except for Col-
leen, whom she saw at the orphanage and at suffrage meetings,
Aurora avoided the O’Learys like a contagion.
“How are James and Kathleen?” The regret in Mama’s voicecaused Aurora a slight twinge of guilt. Aurora knew Mama
missed her friendship with Mrs. O’Leary, and that she had dis-
tanced herself out of deference to Aurora.
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“They are both well.” Papa paused. “James invited us to a
party . . . at Irish Meadows.”
Shock raced through Aurora’s system, causing her hand totremble on the teacup. “That man has some nerve after what
he did to us.” Even after all this time, the memory haunted
Aurora. Out of a misguided sense of loyalty, Gilbert had gone
along with James O’Leary’s scheme to woo Aurora in order
to obtain Papa’s favor for a bank loan, yet in the end, Gil’s
conscience had won out and he had broken their engagement.
Aurora’s feelings had been crushed, but in truth her pride had
taken a worse beating. “Please tell me you turned him down.”
Papa cleared his throat and cast a glance at Mama. “On the
contrary, daughter. I accepted the invitation on behalf of all
of us.”
Aurora’s mouth fell open, and she set down her cup with a
rattle. Papa hadn’t associated with James O’Leary since the
whole betrothal debacle, so why would he consider going to
Irish Meadows now?
“Surely you agree with me, Mama?” Aurora looked to her
mother for support, but Mama merely shrugged.
“It’s up to your father, dear.”
Papa lifted his glass. “James and Gilbert have both apolo-
gized more than once for that unfortunate episode. Time anddistance have allowed me to put the incident aside. I hope you
are mature enough to do the same.”
Under her father’s intense scrutiny, Aurora dared not let her
dismay show. Refusing to attend would only make her father
more insistent that she go. She shifted on her seat and held her
tongue.
“James’s daughter is graduating from college, and they arethrowing a big celebration in her honor.”
Aurora’s stomach dropped. In addition to facing Gil again,
seeing Brianna O’Leary would be sheer torture. She may have
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forgiven Gil for his part in the plan, but to expect her to attend
a celebration for the woman who had stolen Gil’s affections was
too much. “Papa, if you wish to attend, that is your prerogative.But I will not pretend, in front of Gil and the whole O’Leary
clan, to be happy for—”
Her father’s scowl, along with the downward droop of his
handlebar mustache, put a halt to Aurora’s tirade.
“The O’Learys are a prominent family in the community—
one we cannot afford to ignore.” He glanced over at her mother,
who remained silent. “There will be many influential people in
attendance, including, I’m sure, a fine selection of eligible young
men. You will join us next Saturday.”
Aurora bit back a bubble of indignation. I don’t care about
eligible men, she wanted to shout.
But good breeding and manners would not allow her to dis-
respect her father in such a fashion. She swallowed her outrage
and lowered her gaze to the floral carpet. “Very well, Papa, I
will go, but I can’t promise anything more than that.”